Silent Barriers
by aja aron
Summary: First Season story. Communication problems lead the team into trouble: Brennan is stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Jesse has a problem he's not sure he can deal with.
1. Part 1

_Disclaimer:_ Not profiting.

Rating: PG/PG-13

This fiction disavows all knowledge of anything beyond season two of the series, but assumes you are familiar with the characters and concepts up to that point.

I like Mutant X (as the guiltiest of guilty pleasure shows) until the later seasons. I liked it in the beginning because we were able to watch the characters develop and mesh into a cohesive team (have you noticed a team trend in the shows I write for? Good). While I won't totally knock the episodes that followed the first season, I'll admit that I lost interest in the series because the characters started to progress apart instead of progress together. The show overextended itself, bringing odd elements into the universe and allowing too much to happen too soon. The characters became like unto cardboard to me.

_Other notes:_ This particular fiction focuses on the pseudo family nature of the team, and will therefore not include romantic pairings. I tell you this because I don't want you to be disappointed if that's what you are looking for. It's an ensemble piece but will more prominently feature the guys of the team. The story takes place early in the first season. No beta, so read with caution. I have mild dyslexic issues that lead to the occasional confusion of homonyms. Though I know the difference, the path from brain to fingers sometimes creates mix-ups. Feel free to point typos or mix-ups out if you feel so inclined.

P.S. I like Brennan (first season Brennan, and most of the time even second season Brennan). In this story he will be portrayed as he might potentially have been. As will the others (in the world according to me, of course).

* * *

**Silent Barriers**

By Aja

* * *

"You don't seem to understand, _Mulwray,_ there's no one for you to tell. There's no one you _can_ tell."

Brennan glared upwards as he shuddered on the alley floor. Struggling against the gritty wet of it, he tried to climb to his knees. Another brick-like boot connected with his stomach, sending him to the ground. He collapsed onto his side, rolling his forehead against the slick gravel and breathing heavily. His sideways view from the asphalt made the owner of the brick-like boot—Trey Steger—appear abnormally tall. Stretched and surreal.

A group of stretched and surreal looking goons stood silent and ghoulish in the background, quiet and unobtrusive since the original ambush, flanking the far ends of the alley. Brennan kept forgetting they were there. The world kept narrowing in focus.

He gave up trying to orient himself. Sucking air into his lungs, he tucked an arm against his ribs and sent his voice to the sky. "Don't be so sure, _Steger_. You don't know me as well as you think." He clenched his fingers, feeling his com-ring ride up to his knuckle. His throat clamped down around his desire to call to his teammates.

Above him, a leering laugh bounced between the arching brick walls. Demonic-sounding. Like Steger was everywhere at once. "Oh, Brennan," his voice echoed. "Oh, Brennan, I've missed you!" The crunch of loose stones ground loudly under Steger's languid pacing.

Brennan flexed his muscles and felt his head spin. "Wish… I… could… say the same," he paused to breathe, working his clamped throat, "_jerk_."

Another bouncing laugh rushed over his ears.

"I'd almost forgotten how stubborn you could be," said Steger. "It's so nice to see you haven't changed. It's so much more fun for me this way." The drizzle from the darkening sky accentuated Steger's spiky blond hair as he squatted into Brennan's eye line, forearms resting knees, laughter abruptly gone from his face. "I'll say this just one more time, because you should be getting this by now. You _can't _tell _anyone_!" He stretched his arm out, touching fingers to the side of Brennan's face, tilting it upwards to force eye contact, index finger tapping pointedly against his eyebrow. "Get my drift?"

Brennan twitched, arching onto his elbows, trying to pull his head away.

"Nuh, uh, uh," Steger tisked. "You've forgotten the code, _Bren_. You've forgotten the rules. As an old friend, I consider it my duty to remind you." Clapping his other hand to Brennan's chest, he pushed, sending Brennan flat back to the asphalt, an extra wave of pain raking rigidly through him, a prickling sensation picking at his ears, his fingers, even the tips of his toes. Black circles swirled around the edge of his vision, leaving Steger the focal center of a dark kaleidoscope.

"I never forgot the code," Brennan gasped, holding focus through the haze. Everyone from the old neighborhood remembered the code. It was Steger who never understood it, Steger who only ever brought it up when it was useful to him, and Steger who had a twisted view of enforcing neighborhood solidarity and silence. "I never forgot," Brennan repeated. He concentrated on the push and pull of air against his struggling ribs. "But you did," he whispered, then went limp, closed his eyes and stayed absolutely still until he felt Steger's grip loosen. If he had to play by Steger's rules, he would.

Just until he could find another way…

Just until he could get the team...

Steger laughed, like he was reading Brennan's thoughts. "It's my way or the highway, Bren."

"They'll… figure it out anyway," Brennan determined, opening his eyes. "Adam…will… figure it out. He'll know. He'll want to know… how I… got… hurt. Even if I don't tell him, he'll figure it out."

"Brennan, Brennan," Steger lamented, a condescending tilt to his head. He returned his hand to Brennan's forehead, a mocking gesture of comfort. "You're better than that. You know that can't happen. And you know you can't let it happen. Besides, are you telling me you've forgotten how to run a con?" He shook his head. "No. I'm sure you'll think of something. And you'd better start now, because I don't think any of your little friends who come to investigate—_if_ they come to investigate—will be quite as _stoic_ as you, given the same… opportunity." The sneering sarcasm cut deeper the angles in Steger's face, laying bare the hostility and the abject willingness to do harm. To any of them. Adam. Jesse. Shalimar. Emma.

Brennan understood what was being threatened. "No," he said. His mouth wouldn't form any other words. "No. No." He worked his elbows under him again, levering himself up, the new angle tilting a wash of pain up to his forehead. "No."

Steger smiled, spiky hair shimmering in the damp glow of the streetlight. "Now there's the Brennan I've been looking for," he said softly, like he was talking to himself, then ran his hand over Brennan's dark hair, giving his head a gentle shake before letting go. "I think we're finally beginning to understand each other."

Brennan shifted as Steger let go, hitching onto his side, but Steger shoved his boot into Brennan's hip as he stood, flipping him back to his back. Electricity buzzed sharply under the pads of Brennan's fingers as he rolled. He felt the crackling temptation to let it rage. The override of thunder rain held him back. The storm was picking up, pelting him in the face and taping into his nerves.

Steger's laugh echoed as he and his goons retreated, leaving Brennan in solitude, surrounded by the muted, too-distant sounds of civilization and the too-distant feeling of Mutant X. For a long time, he stayed very still and didn't think. Even Steger's name gave him a headache. He tried to let everything go blank. The pain would ease eventually. He'd just wait until the headache went away and he could think clearly enough to decide what he should do, until he could decide what to tell Adam, how to tell Adam…

_What could he possibly tell Adam?_

* * *

"Jesse!"

"_What?_" Jesse tried not to sound annoyed but it was difficult.

Emma strolled around his computer consol with a patiently exasperated expression, leaning into his line of sight. "I _said_ Adam is waiting for you in the lab. It's time for your scan."

"No," said Jesse blandly, eyes fixed on his screen, angling away from Emma's face.

"No?" Shalimar chimed in, and as usual with one word reduced him to feeling like her whining little brother instead of the individualized adult he was.

"Yes, Shalimar, I said no."

"Why _no_? Wait, is Brennan starting to rub off on you? 'Cause I don't think Adam's going to be too happy if he has to start hunting both of you down at lab time."

"Like you're always so eager to go in for your tune-ups."

"_'Tune-ups'_?" said Emma, looking at Shalimar with raised eyebrows.

"Definitely Brennan's influence," Shalimar muttered.

"I'm _not_ being like Brennan," Jesse defended. "I just don't want to get scanned right now." He kept his attention on the computer. If he looked at them, they'd know how easily they were getting to him. Then they'd never go away.

"What's the matter?" Shalimar cooed. "Scared of the big bad lab?"

"_No!_" he retorted, then groaned. The petulance was back in his voice. He'd allowed Shalimar to bait him when he'd promised himself he wouldn't. "I'm just… of course not, okay?"

"Oh ho ho, Shal, I think we struck a nerve." The new expression Emma shot Shalimar, as both tried not to laugh, told Jesse that Emma had gotten an unexpected emotional hit off of him. He grimaced, jerked his head and tried to clamp down on his emotions even though that never seemed to do any of them any good. Emma knew them all well enough to skim right past the illusion of barriers.

"Jesse," Shalimar said, a little more gently, tone traced with both amusement and shock.

Jesse tensed. He hated Shalimar's _gentle_ voice worse than the teasing one. He hated it because part of him liked it. Part of him loved it, reached out for it, and he hated how easily he succumbed to it, even when he knew she was humoring or patronizing him. More than that, her _gentle_ voice always seemed to turn into her _I know best_ voice. Which was the worst of all three.

"Jesse, why would you be afraid of Adam's scan? He's given you, like, _hundreds_ of them."

"I'm not afraid of the scan, alright. I'm just-"

"Jesse?" Adam's voiced echoed over Sanctuary's communication system, buzzing into their com links.

Jesse twitched, lifting his flustered eyes to the ceiling. Sanctuary was conspiring against him. "Look, Adam," he appealed, "can't we do this check up some other time?"

"Sure—actually, Jesse, I was wondering if you'd heard anything from Brennan. He was supposed to check in over an hour ago."

Jesse frowned. He exchanged puzzled looks with the other Mutant X team members and then called up a different screen on his consol. "I haven't heard from him, Adam, but the monitor shows his com link is still active. Did you try him on it?"

"Yes. He's not answering. Did he say anything to any of you about plans today… going somewhere? Anything like that?"

There was a pause, and more puzzled looks traded between them.

Shalimar spoke. "He didn't say anything to us, but I'm sure he's fine. He's probably just trying to avoid his turn in the lab." She ruffled Jesse's hair meaningfully.

"Actually, he was scanned this morning. I pulled him into the lab before he left."

They processed that.

A beat later, Emma's face turned serious, setting into a frown. Shalimar's became cautiously neutral.

The final look traded between them was sharp, barbs of worry poking out it.

* * *

tbc


	2. Part 2

**Silent Barriers: Part 2**

By Aja

* * *

"You got Brennan into the lab this morning?" Shalimar asked, managing to sound both shocked and unsurprised.

"I'm not without my methods." Adam smiled briefly as they joined him at the main hub of communication. Emma returned the smile but Jesse grimaced. His imagination was busy providing twelve different scenarios Adam might have used to get Brennan into the lab, and the additional twelve Adam likely had in reserve to use on the rest of them. Sooner or later Adam would notice Jesse was avoiding, and the subterfuge would be done.

"When did you last hear from him?" asked Emma, leaning over Adam's shoulder to look at the consol. She sounded not-yet-overly-concerned but she had the keen look in her eye Jesse recognized as her searching look. She was reaching out, trying to figure out just how big of a problem Adam believed this to be. Sometimes Jesse wished he had her sensibility.

Adam stood, face neutral. "He checked in at five like I asked him to, but there's been nothing since."

_There_—Jesse picked up on it, even without Emma's ability—the slight pitch in Adam's voice that subtly belied the genuine nature of his concern. Brennan wasn't normally the person on the team you worried about for a lapse in curfew. He was in the process of trading in habits from his less-than-stellar past and it was a work in progress. Adam understood that. Adam was patient with Brennan through all of it. And if Adam was worried about Brennan having not checked in, there was a real reason to be worried.

Jesse tried to think back, reviewing everything he'd said to Brennan that morning and everything Brennan had said to him, but they hadn't talked much. A few inane comments about defensive form and technique before Brennan left the dojo. That was it.

Jesse remembered lingering on the steps, watching, commenting, and trying to figure out how to ask Brennan what he needed to ask. He'd kept thinking about how to word it, how to explain it, but hadn't come up with anything. By the time he'd figured out the question he could ask, Brennan had been off on Adam's errand.

Jesse had been waiting for his return ever since.

He hated waiting. He hated worrying even more.

* * *

Brennan's head felt full of mud, heavy; the sound of his pulse slugging sloppily behind his ears. Under it, Adam's voice echoed, sounding dull and washed out, as though trying to speak to him from behind the shower door with the water running.

_Why was Adam in his shower? Why was Adam trying to wake him up?_

_Five more minutes, Adam, _Brennan wanted to say, but his jaw and tongue wouldn't cooperate. It took several tries before he could even open his mouth. When he did, a crash of thunder rolled over whatever he had planned to say.

_Thunder?_

_Rain._

_Steger!_

Pain pulled at Brennan's brain with the name and bolted him to awareness. With a jolt he remembered where he was—flat in a gritty alley with small pings of rain water dripping over his face and body, making him nervous the way rainstorms always did. And Adam… Adam's voice was real. Adam was actually talking to him, prodding him through the communication link in his ring.

Adam.

Brennan snapped his jaw closed. If he answered—if he said Adam's name—he'd activate the com-link's reverse sound and Adam would know something was wrong. Then Brennan would have to try to explain and wouldn't be able to. This was Steger's game. Steger's rules.

_Think, Brennan, Think!_

If Adam didn't get an answer, he'd check with the others and then try to reach Brennan again. After that, the team would start searching. Jesse would try to trace the signal and the ring would bring them right to the alley.

Desperately, Brennan pulled his hands onto his chest, clasping his cold fingers awkwardly, working the digits together until the com-ring loosened enough to slide off. _Let Adam think the storm is interfering with the signal_, he prayed. It was his best bet. He only needed to buy time—time he could use as long as he just _moved_.

* * *

"Adam, are you sure we're not overreacting here? I mean, you said the job you sent him on was no big deal." Jesse was hunched over the computer consol near Adam's lab, trying to see if he could trace the last signals from Brennan's ring. It worried him that it was deactivated. It worried him that he was having trouble tracing it and he needed reassurance.

"It wasn't," confirmed Adam succinctly, ambling in a deliberately casual pace across the hallway, a deliberately calm expression covering his features. Everything deliberate.

The team wasn't fooled. They'd seen him in too many tense situations to misread him. Adam was worried and his deliberate calm was making them uneasy.

Jesse flicked his eyes back to his computer. "It's weird," he said. "I keep thinking I have a fix on his last location before the ring was deactivated, but the signal is bouncing all over the place."

"What would cause that?" asked Shalimar.

"The storm?" Jesse shrugged.

"It is pretty bad out there. Lots of lightning," added Emma. "Brennan doesn't do well with storms. Maybe…" she didn't finish the thought.

"Thing is," said Jesse. "I don't think the ring is on his finger anymore. Even if he'd deactivated the tracer, if it was still on his finger the storm wouldn't interfere as much and we'd get a better read on the last signals it sent out."

"So what does that mean?" Emma pressed, turning to Adam. "Can we still trace it?"

"We can still trace it," assured Jesse. "It's just going to take a little more effort."

"Yeah," agreed Shalimar. "But there's no guarantee we'll find Brennan once we do."

* * *

After two stumbling attempts, Brennan got himself propped against the gray brick of the alley wall and nearly had himself convinced that the pain in his head was easing. His muscles were responding—loosening—and he found himself finally able to stay on his feet.

Palming the wall, he achieved movement. Inch my inch he made his way toward the alley's exit, all smooth going until his foot caught the sharp edge of a garbage tin, toppling it with a clanging crash that sent knives through his eyeballs. Shoving his shoulder into the brick, he bent his head low and put hands to his ears, waiting for the echo to die away.

Eventually he let go, easing his shaking hands down cautiously. He rubbed rubbery-feeling fingers over his dizzy eyes and kept going. At the corner "Miguel's Mexican Pizza" blinked at him in neon from across the street. The back door of the restaurant led directly into the hallway with the men's room, he remembered, giving him easy access to an indoor facility and a good temporary haven that wouldn't require him to run into too many people. He could take stock of his situation there—clean himself up and form some sort of plan.

Stumbling as he stepped over the curb and into the street, he fervently started hoping that whatever story he decided to tell Adam was a good one.

* * *

"Adam, what exactly did you send Brennan to do?" asked Shalimar, leaning over Jesse's shoulder as he worked.

Adam hesitated. "It was a… delivery… to an old friend," he said.

Emma inwardly slumped. She could feel that somewhere in Adam's mind he was trying to convince himself there was nothing wrong, but tendrils of his fear and his sense of foreboding were slowly slipping out to her. It was as natural as it was irrational, but Emma knew Adam, the intellectual that he was. She'd learned to trust his feelings as well as his mind.

Adam dipped his head away from them, continued his purposefully laconic pace across the floor.

Emma's brow furrowed. "If it's no big deal, what's the big secret?" she asked. Worry was starting to fuel her words. The team's and her own. She spoke carefully to make her voice come out sounding rational but internally she was starting to freak out. Part of her concern was purely for the missing Brennan. The other part was purely selfish. Brennan was hers. In the midst of accepting her powers and joining Mutant X, and everything else she was still trying to come to terms with, he was hers. If she lost him now, she'd have nothing _hers_ to grab onto when things went bad.

Shalimar and Jesse were family—negative blood tests not withstanding—you messed with one you messed with the other. They'd both been with Adam a long time and together the three oozed easy and affectionate familiarity. Emma didn't usually suffer jealousy of their collective relationship, but when she did, Brennan was around to snap her out of it.

They all cared about her, just as much as she cared about them—she could feel it after all—but with Brennan it was different. He'd been protective of her from the start, somehow always keenly attuned to her feelings—going out of his way to make her his partner-in-teasing anytime the blond duo got going. She'd never had a big brother and knew little of functional family dynamics, but with Brennan, none of that mattered because neither did he. And to her, he felt like what a brother should feel like.

An intense wave of outside worry invaded Emma's wandering mind, cutting short her morose thoughts.

She looked up, seeking for the source and saw Jesse standing directly in front of her, his manifested concern shining plainly from his eyes. "Em? Are you okay?"

Her eyes burned abruptly. "Yeah," she said, stumbling over the small word, thinking Jesse suddenly sounded a lot like Brennan. "Just getting a little worried, I guess."

Jesse stepped closer, dropping a strong arm around her shoulder. "Don't worry," he said gently. "We're going to find him, discover he's fine, and spend the rest of the day listening to Adam growl at him for not checking in, okay?"

Emma laughed despite herself, short and brief. She couldn't talk over the sudden lump in her throat so she just nodded instead. Jesse gave her shoulder a squeeze and kissed her forehead before moving back to his consol. He wasn't as tall as Brennan, she thought, but his arm around her felt strong, his words soothing. It was enough.

She composed herself with a smooth breath and moved over to the consol with Jesse. She was aware that behind her Shalimar and Adam were exchanging looks born of sympathy for her and relief that Jesse had been able to bring her around. "Adam, you were about to tell us what Brennan was delivering," she said, cutting into their silence smartly, wanting suddenly to show them she wasn't the one they all had to protect, even though it felt good to feel how they thought of her.

"Alright," Adam conceded. "Jeff Stanton. He's an old friend of mine. Recently he's been helping me on a project, the sensitivity of which dictates that the information exchanged between us no longer be traded by electronic means. We decided to start exchanging our collective progress by personal currier—only using people we trust. There should have been no problems."

"Well, what is this project and who would be interested in it?" asked Shalimar. "Who else knew about it?"

"No one," said Adam adamantly. "No one knew about it. We've been very careful."

"Okay," said Emma, willing to allow Adam his furthered secrecy for now. "But can't you like… call or contact him just to make sure the… 'package' arrived or something?" She felt foolish picturing the conversation, wondering if she'd just found herself as an extra in a spy movie.

"I did," Adam confirmed and stopped pacing. "Stanton said that from his end, everything went fine."

* * *

The face that stared back at Brennan from Miguel's grubby bathroom mirror was flawless, devoid of even the slightest bruise or scratch—so unflawed it felt a sickening mock of his body's innumerable aches and protestations. It was a bittersweet revelation.

Steger had kept from damaging his face on purpose—keeping injury to the parts of Brennan's body that could be kept covered. Even the tiny bits of gravel sticking to his chin and forehead left no trace of their existence after washing them away with the water from Miguel's leaky sink tap.

The revelation set Brennan at a crossroads. With no readily visible evidence, he may not have to tell Adam anything. The best cover stories had the least information in them. There were fewer details to trip you up in the telling. If he could get away with saying nothing… If he could just get back to Sanctuary in one piece and come up with a reasonable explanation for not checking in…

_Shouldn't be hard_, he thought, a little bitterly. Of all the members of the team, he was the unreliable one. The thief. The conman. He'd been working to prove to them otherwise. Now, his past poor character would work in his favor. He groaned and leaned his forehead against the musty mirror, balancing his hands on the counter. What was he thinking? There was no way this would work in his favor.

_Face it, Mulwray, anyway you look at this, you lose. _He mouthed the words slowly, watching the downward angle of his moving chin.

The best he could hope for was that maybe instead of just kicking him out, Adam would help him find a place in the underground, but even that was doubtful. He pulled back from the mirror, blinked at himself and rubbed a hand roughly over his hair.

Maybe he should just cut and run. The concept wasn't unfamiliar to him. He'd just… cut deeper. Run farther. Find his own way to outrun Eckhart.

He could go.

Just go.

Right now.

Leave before the fall out, before the hurt looks and betrayed stares. Then he could just get on with his life… away from all this… responsibility. _This cause. These friends. This home._

He dropped his eyes. He couldn't hold gaze with himself. Yanking the faucet back on, he bent low to cup another palmful of water onto his face, fingers shaking slightly, a storm of anger suddenly hot in his stomach. He'd lose them by the time this was over anyway. He'd lose them, but he couldn't leave yet. If there was even a chance he could fix this…

Maybe there was a way he could tell Adam without really _telling_ him? Maybe…

The vein at the side of his forehead throbbed painfully as he moved through the impossibilities and came up with nothing. He checked his watch. Out of time. He splashed his filled hands over his chin and nose once more, letting the water join the droplets of rain still dribbling down from his hair.

Consciously straightening his stance, he evaluated his appearance. His clothes were drenched, but all traces of blood had been washed away by the storm or melted into the black of his pants. He'd keep his jacket buttoned and pass any stiffness the others saw in his movements off on being cold from the rain.

He straightened his shirt collar, brushed gravel from his jacket, and practiced forcing a chagrined smile. Staring at his hands, he saw that raw scrapes marred both palms—the only injury he couldn't hide with clothing. It was workable, though. Easy. He would tell the others he tripped and then feign embarrassment. They'd harass him, but no way would they suspect the truth.

Rolling his hands one last time through the water, he remembered abruptly that his com-ring was still not on his finger. He had to get it back on. He'd meant only to buy time. Leave it off too long and—nothing would bring the troops faster. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, searching, and brought them out empty.

_Oh no_, he groaned.

* * *

"Adam, I've got it," said Jesse.

Adam leaned over Jesse's shoulder. Shalimar and Emma crowded in on the other side. "Looks to be near Coronado and Beck," said Shalimar.

Adam nodded shortly. "That's where Brennan was supposed to transfer the information."

"We'd better check it out. Adam, are you sure this Stanton guy is a friend?" Jesse turned from the computer consol, wanting to see the answer in Adam's face.

"An old friend. Yes. A good friend. I trust him as much as I've ever trusted anyone," he answered, but the shadows of doubt were cutting in at the corners of his eyes.

"Adam—" Jesse started to say.

"Let's go," said Adam. "Coronado and Beck." He turned, the tail of his black coat fluttering briefly with the motion. Trading looks with the girls, Jesse obeyed. And as the team headed for the Double Helix, Jesse wondered how one day could change so drastically and how it was that when things went wrong, they all seemed to go wrong all at the same time.

_He better be okay_, Jesse thought.

If he wasn't, Jesse was going to kill him.

* * *

tbc


	3. Part 3

**Silent Barriers: Part 3**

By Aja

* * *

The alleyway was dark when the team arrived. And hollow. Wet. Secluded. No sign of Brennan or anyone else.

Shalimar wasn't surprised, but the discovery of nothing made her feel cold—an odd kind of cold that pranced up and down the surface of her skin. And maybe the others felt it too, because for a stifling moment the four of them stood frozen together in the alley's street-way opening, wary of the wrongness in the air.

They'd been speculating on their way over. If Adam's contact wasn't lying to them, and everything really had gone according to plan, then what could have possibly happened? Something about the situation already didn't fit. Adam said he'd checked his inside links to the GSA twice before even telling the team about Brennan's disappearance and then twice after. There were no GSA reports that would indicate Brennan—or anyone else—had been recently captured.

_So… what then? _Shalimar was still learning about her new teammates. If she had to choose one of the two to be dubious about, she'd pick Brennan, but only if she had to. She didn't want to be dubious about him. Since his arrival, both he and Emma had added a dynamic to their small group that made Shalimar feel complete—like lost members of her pack were now, suddenly and inexplicably, accounted for. She wasn't prepared to lose that just yet but this—_probably nothing_—situation made her feel like the completeness of her world was starting to fray.

Standing in the mouth of this abandoned alley filled with unanswered questions felt like finding a loose thread on a sweater—tug too hard and the whole thing would come undone.

Adam set a hand on her shoulder. "Spread out," he ordered.

She stepped forward tentatively, peering through the wet griminess for a glimpse of Brennan's ring. The others did the same, walking and searching, a sort of controlled anxiety in their movements. The scent of worry clung most strongly to Emma. She looked small and vulnerable as she toed aside a garbage can and peered inside.

In the Helix on the way over, Emma had tried to get a hit off of Brennan, but despite the power and depth of their connection, she got nothing. It was possible that Brennan was too far away, that he was currently feeling no strong emotion, or that his emotions were being shielded somehow. Shalimar didn't like the picture painted by any of the possibilities.

Adam's face was somber as he searched, but less stoic than usual. He seemed as puzzled about this situation as the rest of them. Gone was the little spark in his eye that hinted humbly to the rest of the world that he knew something they didn't.

And over by a tipped garbage can, lifting a pizza box and roughly throwing it aside, Jesse was… Jesse looked… Jesse looked… _peculiar_.

Shalimar stopped abruptly what she was doing, unnerved by the fact that she couldn't place a label on Jesse's expression. The feeling caused her stomach to dip. She _knew_ Jesse. She knew him better than _anyone_ except maybe Adam and now all of a sudden couldn't name the look on his face? Slowly she set down the garbage lid she'd lifted, eyes focused on Jesse's face as she extended her senses. Taking deliberate steps, she moved forward, paying no heed to the sky's continued drizzling.

Jesse stayed focused, oblivious to her approach, toeing aside a wood crate, eyes peering around intently.

"Jesse?" Shalimar said, reaching her hand out to his shoulder.

"Did you find it?" He looked up, his baffling expression slipping momentarily into a look of raw hope.

"No," she started, not sure what to say next. "But, Jesse, are you—"

"I've got it!" Emma shouted from the far side of the alley.

Jesse brushed past Shalimar, moving briskly to where Emma was pointing, barely beating Adam to her location.

Shalimar stood frozen, not following. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, hugging against the deepening cold in her bones, she peered the length of the alley in both directions. The rain had washed out any traces of Brennan her senses might have picked up, but she took inventory anyway, noting the scuff marks on the walls, the wet cardboard, the tipped crates and garbage cans. It all crowded around her, poking at her mind with images of violence.

Taking a deep breath, she shook off her irrational thoughts. They would find Brennan. And Jesse… Jesse was just worried like the rest of them. His look meant nothing. "When we find Brennan," she muttered to herself, overheard by no one as she walked to join the others. "I'm going to kill him for making us worry like this."

* * *

Two of Miguel's patrons bumped clumsily into Brennan as he was pushing out of the small bathroom. They were swaying and laughing and obviously drunk. Gritting his teeth against his protesting torso, he tucked an arm against his chest and waited for them to finish shoving through. The noise they were making echoed painfully off the cracked tile walls. Brennan cupped his hands over his ears until he was free of them. He didn't think his head would ever stop hurting.

Out in the hallway, he scanned the floor for his missing ring. Finding nothing, he stepped outside to the cement steps and looked again. He found a shiny mix of discarded soda cans, and saw the glinting reflection from a broken beer bottle, but no ring. Brennan read a lot and the metaphor of what he was doing wasn't lost on him—looking for a mythical ray of hope through the discarded realities of his life.

It was funny, he thought, what Adam had told him when Mutant X had first given him the ring—about it being Brennan's opportunity to put the past behind him. Adam should've known better. Adam spent every waking minute of his life fighting his own past… why had he possibly thought it would be any different for Brennan?

The past was everywhere.

Brennan rose from his careful crouch and stared across to the alley where he'd been. That's where he'd taken the ring off. That's where he'd most likely dropped it. He could just barely make out four shadowy figures moving around in the dark. The team had moved quickly, he realized, faster than he'd thought.

_This is it_, he realized. Time to put on a show. Shaking off the last temptation to run, he carded grazed fingers through his hair and moved. _I can do this, _he coached himself_. I can con anyone. Even them. _

_I can do this._

"I'm screwed," he breathed aloud.

* * *

Adam plucked up Brennan's com-link gingerly, touching it only by the thin rims on the sides. It was unlikely that there would be finger prints or DNA on it other than Brennan's, but there always existed the possibility. Without other leads they couldn't afford to be sloppy or make assumptions.

When they'd arrived, he'd scrutinized the passageway for any signs of struggle, but it was difficult to conclude whether violence had occurred or not. Cardboard boxes and wooden crates sat discarded along the brick wall, some of which were smashed and torn. A few of the garbage cans had been tipped, the contents scattered; however, all those things could have occurred without a fight. Stray dogs, vandals, mischievous children, the storm, the wind… a combination of any of the above.

And any blood in the alley—_god forbid_—would have been washed away by the afternoon downpour. If Brennan had been attacked, or taken, there was no concrete evidence to show for it. Though, if that is what happened, the rain itself could explain how he'd been overpowered. Without safe access to his powers he'd have been extra vulnerable.

Adam pressed fingers to his forehead, digging into his temples.

He should have sent Shalimar… or Jesse. Even Emma. He hadn't known it was going to rain and there wasn't supposed to be anything dangerous about the drop off. Nothing at all. And—

"Adam." Jesse tapped his shoulder. "I found this too."

He looked over to see what Jesse held, breathing in disappointment at the frayed thread clinging to a shiny black button. It could have come from any of the garbage cans, or any number of other sources.

"It was right in the middle of the alley," Jesse clarified, reading Adam's doubt. "It wasn't near any of the garbage cans at all. It looks just like the ones on Brennan's coat."

Conceding, Adam reached out to accept it, handling it as cautiously as he had the ring. He dropped both items into a plastic bag pulled from his pocket. He was keenly aware that his team members were waiting, irrationally, for him to say he'd magically solved the mystery and knew where they could find their missing elemental. But he hadn't solved the mystery, and they already knew that. "Check the alley again," he told them, rising off his haunches and tucking the bag back into his pocket. "Let's see what else we can find."

Emma and Shalimar moved away together, splitting left and right as they searched. Jesse lingered at Adam's elbow like he had something to say. "Jesse?" he prompted. "Did you find something else?"

"No. It's just… never mind." There was a frown line between Jesse's eyebrows that Adam knew well.

"Jesse." Adam stopped him before he could move away, hand to his shoulder. "We'll find him."

Jesse stood motionless a moment, then nodded curtly and walked away. Adam watched him, fearing his words had emerged weaker than he intended, that he hadn't hidden his own doubt as successfully as should have.

He sighed.

Jesse had been an ardent defender of Brennan—in spite of their ability to bicker—since the two had met. Ever since Brennan, still equipped with a sub-dermal governor, had managed to give Jesse the opportunity to escape capture by the GSA. But it was more than that. Jesse had needed a brother ever since he'd come to sanctuary. He'd needed a _friend_. For years Adam and Shalimar were the only people he'd had to relate to or hang out with. Despite the competitiveness Brennan brought out in Jesse, Jesse responded readily to the easy way Brennan called him _brother_, to the easy way Brennan joked with him, and the easy way he pushed him to a higher skill level.

From an outsider's perspective, you'd think it was Jesse who was trying to figure out his place on the team instead of the other way around. But Adam knew better. Brennan was still adjusting and learning, and sometimes struggling. Jesse was sensitive and prone to ignoring the challenges Brennan faced in shedding his past. At times, Adam had found himself wanting to caution Jesse, but he was reminded of the years Jesse had spent much too closed off. Already Brennan had done wonders for that.

They needed him. The team needed him. And Brennan needed them. This, Adam was sure of.

_So what could have happened here?_

Adam trusted Brennan. But he trusted Jeff Stanton also. Stanton was a good man, a rare quality of friend. Adam couldn't fathom Jeff was lying when he so sincerely told him everything went off without a hitch and that Brennan had left the alley completely unharmed.

So far, every possibility was already a dead end. He tried to think through next steps.

They could look for witnesses—question some of the local business owners down the street, but getting useful information from them was already unlikely. He and Jeff had chosen this location for its seclusion. The alley was closed off from the rest of the street, shuttered from the city's nearby business district and devoid of windows where squatters in the nearby warehouse might have otherwise had a good show.

The only inhabited building with half a chance at witnessing anything was the dubious looking pizza haven situated across the street—and only then if someone had been taking garbage out the back entrance or otherwise hanging out in the pizza joint's back alley, which was even more unlikely considering the day's weather.

"Adam!" Shalimar gripped his forearm tightly. When he looked over he could see her eyes had flashed to feral gold.

"Shalimar?" he asked, gripping her shoulders.

"He's here," she said. "Brennan is nearby."

* * *

tbc


	4. Part 4

**Silent Barriers: Part 4**

By Aja

* * *

Jesse's muscles tensed. _Brennan was __here__? _He darted his eyes down the alley to where Shalimar stood gripped in Adam's hands. Her eyes flashed left to right in a feral search, predatory lines in her shoulders. He followed her gaze but saw nothing. There was no trace of Brennan. Was he somewhere out of view? Hidden? Injured? And if so, why hadn't Shalimar sensed him sooner?

"Jesse?"

Jesse whirled so quickly he almost lost his balance. "Brennan?"

Just past the curve of the alley, mere feet from Jesse, stood his missing teammate. Brennan looked soggy, maybe a little pale, but otherwise unharmed. Water was dripping from his jacket and hair and his arms were folded across his chest in a defensive posture that countered the casual tone he'd used to say Jesse's name.

"Brennan," Jesse repeated.

"What are you guys doing here?" Brennan asked.

Jesse's mouth fell open but no sound came out. He moved, closing the distance between them. Behind them, Jesse heard Emma and Adam shout out Brennan's name and the rest of the team rushing toward them in relief. It loosened his voice. "What are _we_ doing here?"

"Brennan, what happened? Where have you been?" Shalimar reached them first, stopping at Brennan's shoulder, gripping his bicep, looking him up and down for injury.

Brennan stepped back, expression warily unsure. Jesse didn't blame him. Shalimar walked a fine line between worry and fury, but she usually restrained her reactions until in possession of the complete facts, unlike Emma. Emma didn't quibble with the possibilities. She threw her arms around Brennan's stiff waist and hugged tightly. He grunted and grimaced, and Jesse heard a hiss through his lips.

"Brennan?" Jesse asked, he would have stepped forward but for Adam's sudden grip on his shoulder. Looking left, Jesse saw their leader evaluating Brennan with practiced calm.

"Good to see you too, Em," Brennan was stammering, shifting back another half pace with Emma in his grip. "I don't want to get you more wet than you are—I'm soaking here."

Emma let go and backed up, then surged forward and smacked Brennan's shoulder. "Ow!" he said, tentatively rubbing at his arm. "What are you beating me up for? And have you been working out? Geeze, you hit hard."

"Brennan," squawked Emma, "you've been missing. You don't have your com-ring on and we've just spent the better part of our evening trying to track you down. I couldn't even sense you."

"We really thought something had happened to you, Bren," Shalimar added. "Adam told us you were supposed to check in over an hour ago."

Brennan shuffled backwards, face perfectly baffled.

Emma stepped back also, the relief on her face fading to pure confusion.

Adam—silent until then—finally spoke. "Are you alright?" he asked carefully.

"What?" said Brennan, shifting his eyes between Shalimar and Emma, as though waiting for one of them to strike. "Yeah," he said, absently catching up with Adam's question. "I'm fine. You guys thought I was missing?"

The girls looked ready to react violently. Adam preempted the tirades by making a "calm down" gesture with his hands.

Jesse might have joined the protests but he was listening for other things. Brennan's voice sounded strong and smooth. Apart from looking cold and wet he seemed fine. Everything Jesse had told Emma back at sanctuary was turning out to be true. They'd worried for nothing. It was all just a misunderstanding. Brennan was fine.

"Okay," said Adam, gripping Jesse's shoulder more tightly before letting go. "We can sort the rest of this out on our way back to Sanctuary instead of here in the rain. Brennan, you look cold."

Brennan had crossed his arms back across his torso and was trembling slightly.

"Let's go," Adam ordered.

"Adam, wait," said Brennan. Jesse turned back to see him shuffling nervously, looking at the ground.

Adam paused, lifting a concerned eyebrow.

Brennan kicked awkwardly at a piece of gravel on the ground. "Look, Adam, I uh… I uh…"

"Brennan?" Adam prompted, stepping closer. Brennan backed up hastily, then seemed to consciously stop himself. It was a reactive gesture Jesse had seen few times before and it made his muscles tighten, ready for whatever fight Brennan thought they needed to be ready for.

Adam frowned, extending his hands out carefully, he deliberately slowed his movements. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"I can't go back yet."

"Is there a problem?"

"I… I just… I… Adam." Brennan blew out a long breath. "I lost my com-ring." His voice lowered as he continued. "I'm not even sure when. I went to check in, but it was gone. I've been looking but…"

"You lost your com-ring?" Jesse said in monotone. "All of this was because you lost your com-ring?"

Brennan flicked his eyes over, then turned back to Adam. "It usually fits perfect but when my hands are cold it gets a little loose. It must've slipped off somewhere… I'll find it, I just..."

Jesse felt like hitting things.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose.

Then, in what started as a mad somewhat hysterical sound, Emma and Shalimar began to giggle—their laughter growing until all but Brennan joined in—the irrational release of time spent in worry.

Pulling the plastic bag from his pocket, Adam withdrew the ring and handed it to Brennan. Without another word he turned to walk toward the Helix, not waiting to see if the others followed. The girls went after him but Jesse paused. He wanted to walk with Brennan.

The elemental slipped the ring back onto his finger with his head bowed low. His shivering had ceased, as if reverencing the ring's return and for a moment, he stood as motionless as a statue, motionless and blank in a way Jesse had never seen him, an absolute stillness about him that made Jesse wonder if Brennan was planning to follow them back to the Helix at all.

"Jesse? Brennan? You coming?" Adam called back, and the spell broke.

Brennan took a sudden breath, twisting the ring a few times around his finger. He looked up and met Jesse's eyes before quickly looking away. He was shivering again. A nervous jerk in his movements that Jesse thought couldn't be entirely explained by having to tell Adam you lost your ring, an expression on his face that seemed just a little too relieved.

Jesse opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Yeah," Brennan called. His voice was scratchy. "We're coming." He loosened slightly, took a step and clasped a stiff hand to Jesse's shoulder. "Come on, brother," he said without looking at Jesse's face. "The boss beckons."

Jesse tried to loosen his own muscles and ease into the familiarity, but something cold and hard was sticking deep in his chest.

* * *

When the team returned to sanctuary, Brennan was reeling in grateful unbelief that the team had bought his stupid story. They continued to throw him looks of exasperation but even that was already fading. And as dangerous as it was, he couldn't help the want to revel in their concern for him, just one last time. Soon that concern would be gone.

The fateful effect of betrayal.

After the doors to the hanger swung shut, Shalimar, Jesse, and Emma headed straight for their rooms, presumably to change. Aching and cold, Brennan made his way towards his own with the same plan in mind, seeking the relief of being alone, away from concern he didn't deserve. Even though he was cold to the point of pain he just wanted to sit. He wanted to sit still and stay that way for at least an hour. Not think. Not feel.

To his chagrin, Adam followed him into his room, forcing Brennan into pretense a while longer. He dropped onto his bed anyway, a little too quickly. The speed of motion jarred his ribs. He let a hiss of air out through his nose, clenching his jaw to hold in the wince. He looked up at Adam who was watching him, and forced the grimace out of his expression. "Adam?"

Adam half smiled and stepped further into the room. He pulled Brennan's desk chair away from the wall. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said before sitting.

Brennan sniffed and looked away. Somewhere in the last half hour his nose had started to run. "I'm okay," he said. The words almost stuck in his throat. He hated lying to Adam. More than he hated being fussed over in the lab, he hated lying to Adam.

His mother had told him once that he should treat his important relationships with care and respect. He'd had few relationships he deemed qualified but this was one of them. And he knew how much Adam valued the trust among them. When Brennan's lies were inevitably discovered, because sooner or later they would be, that trust would be well and truly broken. Brennan didn't so much care that Adam didn't know he was hurt—it was all the rest of it that bothered him, all the rest he couldn't say. "I'm… just cold."

"And wet." Adam smiled, laughing dryly. "You were out there for a while. Let's hope you don't get sick."

"You told me getting sick from being out in the rain was just a…an old wife's tale… or whatever you call it."

"There's a common misconception that being out in the cold itself will cause you to catch cold. But prolonged exposure weakens the system, making the body more susceptible to the germs it comes in contact with."

"Thank you, Doctor Technical-explanation-for-everything," Brennan said, carefully leaning over. He made a casual show of unknotting the soggy laces on his boots.

"You're welcome." Adam smiled again, but Brennan kept his attention diverted. He didn't want to look up to see the sympathetic eyes. _I've given completely over to sappiness_, he cursed. Trey Steger was right about that. Brennan had started to forget the codes. He'd started forgetting rules of survival the streets had taught him. Right behind _what happens in the neighborhood stays in the neighborhood_ was _don't get attached_.

"You know, everyone was pretty worried about you today," Adam continued.

Brennan kept his eyes on his laces. "I said I was sorry—"

"That's not what I meant," Adam cut him off gently.

Brennan did look up then. Where was Adam going with this? "I know I should have checked in earlier… found a phone or something."

"That's not what I meant either, although that's an excellent idea."

Brennan bent back to the stubborn laces.

"I just meant they all really depend on you. You're an important part of this team now. The last little while you've all grown connected with each other. Emma relies on you, Jesse looks up to you, Shalimar—well—Shalimar doesn't easily accept people into her pack. They—_we_ notice the effect when you're not around."

Brennan had the left lace free, but the right one wouldn't come undone.

"Look, Brennan, I know this… team dynamic—"

Brennan had the raw hunch Adam was going to say "family" instead of "team" but he bit his lip, and pushed that thought out of his head.

"—is new to you and there are still adjustments to be made."

The hunch dissipated. The rawness remained. What was Adam trying to say? Was this the prelude to _thanks Brennan but we'll find another elemental? _"Adjustments?" Brennan repeated cautiously. It was happening faster than he thought it would. He was already losing them. He thought it would have taken more. Taken longer. He hadn't thought the team would jump so quickly at getting him out.

The obstinate lace broke off in his hand.

"Yes, adjustments. I know this hasn't been easy for you but—" Adam set a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop with the laces and look up. "We're not in the habit of kicking people out just for losing their com-rings."

"What?" Brennan sat upright. He felt a quick burn at the back of his eyeballs and was surprised by it, blinking quickly.

"You just seemed very worried about it. I appreciate it, but these things happen. You could have called and asked for help. We would have understood."

"I know." Brennan swallowed. If he was just playing a role, why was all of this hitting so close to home?

Adam just looked at him. The look spoke volumes, but Brennan was grateful Adam didn't say the words that should've gone with the look. _If you knew, then why didn't you do it?_

_I might end up doing a lot of things I know I shouldn't, Adam,_ Brennan thought but couldn't say. _But I hope not._

"Let me see the ring," Adam ordered next, stretching his arm towards Brennan's hand. The elemental had to fight the sudden urge to snatch it back. "I can adjust the size a fraction, enough to compensate for the cold but not enough to be uncomfortable otherwise. Is it loose all the time or just when your hands are cold?"

"Just when I'm cold," Brennan answered. He pulled the ring off, registering its weight in his fingers before reluctantly handing it over to Adam's waiting palm. As he drew his arm back, Adam caught his wrist.

"What happened to your hand?" he said, leaning over it.

Brennan remembered the abrasions, dull in comparison to his other aches. "I tripped," he mumbled, remembering belatedly to sound rueful. It came out less convincing than he'd planned. "These guys over at the pizza place were drunk and knocked me over coming out of the entrance. I was focused on finding the ring. Wasn't paying attention."

"Hmm—make sure you wash it out really well. Looks like there's some dirt in there. I'll take a look after you shower, see if we can't get them healed up."

"Okay," Brennan nodded, grateful that Adam didn't question his story. He could play up his embarrassment over tripping later, if the others asked about it.

Adam returned the chair to the desk and started for the door. "You should probably shower now—you're still shivering," he said.

"I will."

"Oh." Adam paused in the open doorway. "How did the transfer go? Any problems there?"

"No." Brennan swallowed. "It was fine. Everything went fine." The words came out solid. Brennan didn't even stutter. He hated himself for it, almost as much as he hated Trey Steger.

Adam nodded and left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Brennan slumped, thinking of Trey, thinking of all his threats and promises, and tried again to find away around them. He made his way into his bathroom and felt his head start throbbing harder. He stopped thinking. For a little while, he decided, he'd stop thinking anything at all.

* * *

tbc


	5. Part 5

**Silent Barriers: Part 5**

By Aja

* * *

"Jesse?"

Jesse looked over as Adam was exiting Brennan's room. "Hey, Adam," he responded, forcing casualness, leaning back into the cushions of his lounge chair.

Adam stopped in front of him. "I thought you'd be wanting to shower and change like everyone else."

Jesse fidgeted with his hands. "Yeah," he shrugged, bouncing his foot as he propped his ankle on the opposite knee. He was no good at lying—not to Adam. "I wanted to ask Brennan something," he admitted.

"Anything I can help you with?" Adam's voice took on a fatherly tone.

"No." Jesse dropped his eyes. "No, it's nothing." Except, maybe it wasn't nothing. He'd thought it was nothing. Now, he wasn't so sure, but he still wasn't ready to discuss it with Adam. Not yet. "I just wanted to ask him a question."

"I see," said Adam. "Well, he was looking a bit achy. I have the feeling he may be a while."

"Is he okay?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Why don't you go get changed and if I see him come out I'll tell him you want to speak with him."

Jesse flicked his eyes to Brennan's door. "Yeah, okay," he answered and made a show of getting to his feet. He could wait a little longer. With one last look at the closed bedroom door he headed off to his room.

"Jesse?" Adam called. Jesse looked back dutifully. "We left Brennan's car when we came back in the Helix. Would you be willing to go get it after we eat? Shalimar or Emma could go with you."

"Sure," Jesse said, relieved Adam wasn't reminding him of his still-missed scan. "Where did he leave it?"

"I'm not sure—you can ask him when you speak to him."

* * *

Shalimar exited her room grateful to be wearing something dry and warm and free of the chilled night's dampness. Her quick shower had helped her shed the remaining feel of gritty alley and worry. What remained was an itching sensation across her skin. A prickling she'd come to associate with her feral senses.

She tried to convince herself she was just hyper after an evening of pointless searching—her senses not calming as readily as her mind.

Or… maybe she was just hungry. They'd missed dinner, and now that the ordeal was over, her appetite had returned with a vengeance. She wandered into the kitchen, hoping Adam or Jesse had decided to set food out for the rest of them. Instead she found Emma staring aimlessly into an open refrigerator, a crinkle across her brow that reminded Shalimar of the expression on Jesse's face back in the alley—the expression that had inexplicably made her worry.

It had been so fleeting, she'd almost forgotten about it. It was just a look though, just Jesse being worried about his teammate, and just her imagination making her think it was anything more. She'd been keyed up and a bit paranoid, that was all.

It meant nothing.

A sudden, probably over-reactive, desire to go find him surged through her. She took a deep breath to quell it and focused instead on the actual teammate before her. "Emma?"

Emma stayed staring blankly at the bottles of juice.

"Emma?" Shalimar touched her shoulder.

Emma startled, jolting around, eyes darting to Shalimar's with some unexplained panic before melting to calm. She slid her hand up to her brow and brushed her hair to the side. "Sorry, Shal, you startled me," she said, closing the fridge with an embarrassed laugh.

"I guess so," answered Shalimar, using the tone of voice that said, _obviously_.

Emma laughed again. "You know it isokay to make _some_ sound when moving around Sanctuary."

"Ha ha." Shalimar leaned back against the counter. Folding her arms she let her tone turn more serious. "Come on, Em, what were you thinking about? You looked like you were a million miles away."

Emma re-opened the fridge and fished out two bottles of water, handing one to Shalimar. "I don't know," she admitted. "I was just… thinking in general, I guess." She reached for the potato chips Brennan and Jesse had hidden behind the fruit-bowl near the wall.

"Oh yeah?" Shalimar prompted, taking the chips out of Emma's hands, grabbing out a handful before handing them back. They weren't what she was craving, but her stomach wasn't picky at the moment. Propping herself against the counter, Shalimar prepared to wait Emma out. Though they'd bonded early on, Emma always took her time when sharing her thoughts; still a little shy, still a little worried that maybe she wasn't really supposed to be part of this team. Emma worried in the way Brennan worried, though both tried to hide it.

Shalimar recognized it because she could relate. She'd been much younger than Emma when she'd come to Sanctuary, and as confident as she was _now_ in her role as world defender, she'd been every bit as insecure as either of her new teammates.

Emma leaned against the opposite counter, mirroring Shalimar's posture. "Okay… it's… it's just… it's stupid but, do you think Brennan was telling the truth about what happened this afternoon?"

Shalimar paused mid munch. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how did he seem to you?"

"I don't know. He seemed… wet… cold… kinda freaked about telling Adam he lost his ring. I don't know. Why? Did you sense something?"

Emma changed position, tipping forward to lean on the counter Shalimar had propped herself against so that the feral had to turn sideways to continue tracking the expressions on Emma's face. "That's just it," said Emma. Her brow crinkling again, making her look confused and… _guilty_? Shalimar found herself evaluating the memory of Jesse's weird expression and comparing it against Emma's. "Brennan," Emma continued, "I can't sense him. I mean…I can _sense_ him, but I _can't_ sense him. I… I don't know how to explain it."

"What do you mean? Like he's blocking you?" Shalimar shoved the chips aside. They'd lost their appeal.

"No. I'm not sure that's even possible. But it's… I can't explain it. It's just a sensation, a feeling. It's like… it's like something's wrong and I should know what it is but I don't. Or like I knew but forgot somehow." Emma's forehead crinkled for a third time and Shalimar felt again the pressing need to find Jesse.

Emma's words felt too familiar.

Shalimar set her water down. "I'm sorry, Emma. Hold that thought, okay. There's something I've got to check on." She didn't look back as she left the kitchen. All she knew was that she wanted to find Jesse. She wanted to find Jesse now.

* * *

The shower did actually help ease up the pounding in Brennan's head. The warm water felt good on his bruises, but it also washed away the numbness brought by the cold and awakened in his nerves the intensity of Steger's attack. Covering his injuries would take more work than he thought. He'd have to find a way to stay out of the dojo until he could get his healing moved along and that would take some planning.

He could play up the sick angle. Adam seemed to think he might be catching a cold. But that could backfire. If Adam thought Brennan was really sick, he'd end up in the lab for sure. There would be no avoiding explanations if that happened. Outright lies would only assuage so much suspicion, no matter how sincerely Brennan could deliver them. So far, he'd mixed everything with truth, and it was working but it was going to get more complicated. He'd never run a con quite like this. Not on… people who actually knew him.

Turning up the heat in the water, he let it run over his face, then backed against the tile and slid slowly to the floor.

* * *

"Shalimar, where are you going?" Emma caught up with her in the corridor and reached for her wrist.

"I just need to check on something." Shalimar slowed her pace as they moved into the stretch of Sanctuary that led up to the dojo. Glancing both left and right revealed no Jesse.

"Shalimar, I can sense your emotions," Emma reminded. "And even if I couldn't I can still tell you're worried. About Jesse. Why?"

Shalimar finally looked back. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Em. I think I'm still keyed up from earlier."

"Something I said set you off," Emma observed.

"No, it wasn't anything you said."

Emma's eyebrows lifted.

"Okay, maybe. That thing you said about feeling you should know what was going on with Brennan but didn't… Back when we were searching the alley, Jesse had this look on his face and I couldn't read it. Ever since I've just had this feeling… like he's hiding something and I should know what it is."

Emma looked thoughtful.

"I know, I sound paranoid, don't I?" said Shalimar.

"I think maybe it's just been a really weird day," answered Emma.

"Guys," Adam's voice rang over their heads. "We have dinner if you'd like to eat."

From the far side of the corridor emerged Jesse, looking clean and warm and… completely fine. Emma caught Shalimar's eye and shrugged, then turned to walk toward the food.

Jesse started to follow but Shalimar stopped. "Jesse, wait just a minute."

Dutifully, he stopped, giving her his full attention and a concerned look, possibly feeding off the anxiety that lingered in her voice.

"I just… Are you okay?"

Jesse's look of concern turned sideways. "Yeah—I'm fine," he said carefully. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason. Just, earlier today you looked… I was worried about you." Shalimar shrugged. He was obviously fine. She just needed to calm down from the day's tension. _Repeat that enough times and it will be true_, she told herself.

Jesse smiled, looking relieved. He gave Shalimar's arm a tender squeeze. "I'm okay," he claimed reassuringly. "Let's go eat before it gets cold."

She nodded, eased by his words but conscious of the itchy feeling that pricked up her spine and then disappeared. She'd been hungry earlier—she remembered that now. "Yeah, let's eat."

* * *

"Isn't Brennan joining us?" asked Emma while passing rice over to Adam and thinking re-heated yellow curry never tasted so good.

"Adam thinks he's sick," supplied Jesse.

"I said he might be sick," Adam corrected. He took more rice and set the serving bowl in the table's center. "He was looking a little pinched."

Emma looked down at her plate, wondering if Brennan being sick could somehow account for the weird sense of vertigo she'd felt when trying to get a bead on him earlier. At the moment, she could tell where he was, could tell that he was in his room, but she could sense no distinct emotion, like doors had closed around him, leaving her looking at his hazy image through windowpanes. Foggy windowpanes.

She wanted to ask Adam about it, he always seemed to understand the reality of what she was trying to describe, but she didn't want to set off needless worry as she feared she'd done earlier with Shalimar. And maybe it wasn't Brennan, maybe she was letting her own emotions interfere. Maybe if she meditated, things would become a bit more focused. She could do a full mediation later, but for the moment she just closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath through her nose, counting in her mind as she released it, hoping to calm the worries that could muddle her interpretations of others.

When she opened her eyes Jesse was watching her. Almost immediately a picture appeared in her mind—Jesse stood in the back of a line of faceless images leading up to a booth, reminding her of the kind of booth bank-tellers sat in. Jesse was trying to look patient but was fidgeting from foot to foot. He kept looking up to see whomever it was that sat in the booth. Emma's confusion deepened when she realized the man in the booth was Brennan. Then, just as fast, the picture was gone.

"Emma?" Jesse's voice startled her. "I asked if you wanted more rice."

* * *

tbc


	6. Part 6

I got a little on the hokey side with the domesticity of Sanctuary and probably over exaggerated Adam in the pseudo-parent role but… it's a total guilty pleasure show anyway, right?

* * *

**Silent Barriers: Part 6**

By Aja

* * *

After dinner, Jesse knocked on Brennan's bedroom door, once, then opened it and slipped inside. He was tired of being patient.

The light in the room had been dimmed, which meant Adam was probably right about Brennan being sick or having a headache or something. It was another reason to hesitate but Jesse stepped deeper into the room anyway. He wouldn't sleep that night unless he spoke to Brennan first, and Brennan normally didn't mind taking the opportunities Jesse gave him to play big brother. _Besides_, Jesse thought, _Adam told me to get his car and I have to talk to him to find out where he parked it_.

"Hey, Bren?" he called. "Are you in here?" He toyed with the idea of switching up the lights… and if that accidentally woke a sleeping Brennan it certainly wouldn't be Jesse's fault.

As it turned out, the lights weren't needed. "What's up, Jesse?" Brennan's tired voice stretched out from the direction of his bed. Jesse could see the vague outline of his body lying stiffly on top of his covers.

"Are you sick?" he asked, stepping closer.

"No," Brennan denied. "Just tired. I think the rain gave me a headache—tenses me up, you know? You need something?"

Jesse nodded. He didn't often think about Brennan's reaction to rain or the limiting affect it had on his powers. It never manifested itself like a phobia, like Shalimar's fear of fire, and Brennan always came across as the sort of guy that didn't let stuff like that bother him. "You want me to get Adam?" he asked hesitantly.

He probably should. Adam was hyper vigilant regarding the team's collective and individual strengths and weaknesses. He would have been worried about the weather he'd sent Brennan out to work in. Adam's worry over the rain probably fueled half the worry they'd experienced that afternoon and all the what-ifs they'd been asking themselves. It was funny the way worries could run away from you, feeding off something so initially small.

It was also ironic, Jesse thought, considering his own what-if situation. Adam would want to know what Jesse was here to ask Brennan about just as much as he would want to be informed of Brennan's headache. But sometimes… sometimes he just needed to have a chance to figure things out for himself.

"No—don't tell Adam, 'kay?" said Brennan. "It's no big deal and he'll make it one. Please?"

That was true enough. Since coming to Sanctuary Jesse had been drilled with the knowledge that even seemingly common aches and illnesses could be the signs of something serious in a new mutant and should any such symptoms occur, Adam was to be informed immediately. Having been Sanctuary's youngest for so long, Jesse had long ago given in to the irrevocable certainty of such fussing, no matter how unnecessary, and had learned with good reason to return it in kind. But at the moment, running to Adam about Brennan felt a little hypocritical. "I won't tell him," he said, slipping into a chair near the bed.

"Thanks," Brennan nodded, sitting slowly upright.

Jesse reached his hand towards the wall, tapping the pad that allowed him to elevate the level of light, just slightly, enough to see all of Brennan's features but hopefully not enough to aggravate a migraine. "Did you shower?" he asked. Brennan was fully clothed, and Jesse thought it odd. He figured Brennan would've just dressed for bed after, but he hadn't. He even had his shoes on. Jesse wrinkled his forehead. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes, I showered." Brennan closed his eyes for a second and shifted against the pillows stacked at his side. "And yes, I'm going somewhere. I've got to go get the car. I should have brought it back before, but I wasn't thinking. I parked way down on Walters and I don't want it to get towed."

"Emma and I are going to get your car. Adam asked us to."

"I'll get it," said Brennan, a little sharply. His hand flexed against the bedspread. A second later the knuckles eased and he looked up, eyes softer. "Don't worry about it," he added, tone easy.

Jesse shrugged but didn't say anything. Brennan could argue with Adam about it later—like when Brennan tried to leave. Jesse had no doubt who would win that battle. No way was Adam going to let Brennan back out in the rain, not with the way it was still tensing him up. Besides, sooner or later Brennan would realize that it would take more than one person to retrieve the vehicle. Someone would have to drive him out there so he could drive his car back. "Are you sure you're okay?" Jesse asked.

"I'm fine, Jesse. Did you need something else?" Brennan sounded weary.

"Yeah," Jesse admitted cautiously. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and linked his fingers together. "I need to ask you something."

Brennan shifted, giving another grunt, but there was a _go ahead and ask_ somewhere in the sound.

"Last night at Arecas… when you left because Emma wanted to leave early?"

"Yeah?" Brennan blinked, rolling his head towards Jesse.

"There was this guy. After you guys left he came up and asked me—" An abrupt rapping sound on the door interrupted them. Jesse closed his mouth and turned his head. Adam's bright silhouette was like a paper cut-out, traced against the lights spilling in from outside Brennan's doorway.

Jesse sighed. He felt his face heat up a little—as though he and Brennan were kids caught telling secrets in the dark. Brennan sat up higher on his bed, running a hand over his hair and straightening his shoulders. _Trying a little too hard to look not-sick_, Jesse thought.

"Sorry to interrupt," said Adam, gaze sweeping easily from Brennan to Jesse and back again. "Brennan, I wanted to see if you were feeling better after your shower."

"I'm fine," Brennan answered, shifting his legs off the bed, sitting up straighter still.

Adam's eyes narrowed, looking knowing and solid but Jesse had seen this type of exchange between Adam and Brennan before. Brennan wouldn't give up the ruse easily. He'd get flippant, or evasive, or act annoyed and angry to deflect. Brennan, Jesse thought, was more stubborn than any of them.

In short succession, Brennan slumped his shoulders. "It's just a headache, Adam."

Jesse whipped his eyes back, surprised by the quick admission. The dim light kept Brennan somewhat shrouded, but Jesse could see his wary posture and the dull flash of exhaustion in his eyes… and the subtle jump of the jaw muscle that didn't quite match the surrender of his words.

Leaning back in the chair, Jesse looked toward Adam and wondered if he'd seen it too, or if it was too dark from where he stood. Adam's expression was worried, but calm. He shifted, and the light still present behind him shifted with him, darkening the remainder of his expression.

Maybe Brennan's response hadn't been that out of character. Maybe Brennan was learning there was only so much denial one could throw around in front of a concerned Adam Kane. Jesse leaned back in his chair, pulling his hands in towards his stomach, pulling at the threads on the hem of his shirt.

Adam moved again until he was even to Jesse's chair. "Tension?" he asked Brennan.

Brennan's long fingers slid up to his hairline, rubbing softly as he looked down and away.

Jesse eased back even more. It was starting to feel like he was intruding, like they'd both forgotten he was there. He recognized the tone of Adam's voice. No longer clinical or detached. More personal. They'd had this conversation before—Adam and Brennan. Jesse could tell because he'd had personal conversations with Adam too—the ones that were private and always a little touchy because they dealt with his own diffidence regarding his own powers and their peculiar weakness.

He never expected to watch this conversation from an outsider's view. He'd heard talks between Shalimar and Adam, and he and Shalimar had a few of their own, but it was different with her and even with Emma. Their mutations were so much more intrinsic—they didn't deal with the on-off switches that drove elementals and moleculars.

"Did you take something for it?" Adam asked.

"Couple of aspirin," Brennan shrugged. And it was predictable but a bit late when Brennan added, "I don't want anything stronger. It's already not as bad as it was."

Adam made a placating gesture with his hands but his eyes evaluated Brennan piercingly. "You'll tell me if it gets worse?"

"I'll tell you," agreed Brennan, managing reluctance and agreeability simultaneously, which only served to give Jesse the weird feeling that his teammate was forcing the tone on purpose. But it would work. Jesse knew it would. Brennan would be off the hook—at least for the evening.

"And you should rest," added Adam. "Maybe go to bed early?" It was couched as a question but Jesse knew an order when he heard one. Adam would win this point too, but as Jesse watched Brennan's eyes he couldn't help but wonder who was getting the best of whom—somehow Brennan was getting exactly what he wanted.

"Okay," Brennan nodded, looking away from them both.

Jesse sucked his cheeks inward, watching.

Adam turned, giving them both one last look before he went out the door.

Alone again, Jesse eased forward in the chair, waiting.

Typically, Brennan would now complain—moan, whine, or mutter about the overzealousness of Sanctuary's health watch. But he didn't. He was silent. And he looked relieved. Too relieved.

The expression disappeared when their eyes met and Brennan seemed to abruptly remember he was not alone. "What did you want to tell me, Jess?" he asked. It was strained. A little too congenial. A little too attentive.

"Nothing," Jesse heard himself say, feeling something numb creep over his skin. _Had he really just seen someone out manipulate Adam?_ Brennan was looking at him expectantly and he seemed so… _Brennan. Normal. _

But something was off.

Jesse felt a little ill. He looked uneasily back at his friend, seeing him now in darkening colors, shaded by whatever the past moments had revealed. The wall behind Brennan's head shimmered in the dim, reminding him of Emma's room in meditation mode—projecting calm. A stark contrast to the turmoil trying to dig under Jesse's fingernails. "It was nothing."

* * *

After leaving Brennan's room, Adam was walking down the back hallway, moving towards his lab, when soft laughter caught his attention. He turned the corner to the kitchen and watched discreetly as Shalimar and Emma stacked dishes in the washer, Emma ducking her head as Shalimar flicked water in her direction. They seemed in better spirits, mood completely different than the one he'd found in Brennan's room. "You know," he said, "it helps if some of the water stays in the sink."

Their heads turned. Emma smiled. Shalimar laughed. "Maybe you should take over?" Shalimar suggested. "Or get the boys in here to do it. I'm sure all the water would stay in the sink then."

Adam just smiled and turned around, rerouting to his lab. He grabbed his topcoat from where he'd left it on the couch, folding it over his arm. In the lab, he draped it over a chair, hoping it would dry quicker there than on one of the coat-hooks in the outside corridor—he always kept his lab warmer than the rest of Sanctuary, especially in the evenings when he knew he'd sitting and reading and not be warmed by intermittent physical activity.

Leaving the coat, he sat himself in the chair closest to his communications panel and fished Brennan's com-ring out of his pocket, setting it on the workspace to his left, mentally adding its size-adjustment to the list of things he wanted to accomplish before the night was over.

Brennan's reaction to its loss had been interesting. Startling to an extent, and worrisome at the same time. He'd thought Brennan was beginning to feel more comfortable with his place here and had believed him to be over the adjustment phase. It'd been hopeful and naïve, Adam thought, to believe their newest team members could overcome their pasts so easily.

Shalimar and Jesse—both just as extraordinarily confident as Brennan and Emma appeared to be on the surface—had, in their own ways, struggled to feel settled here. But they'd been younger and had been dealing with separations from the families they'd grown up in, whether good or bad. Adam had mildly hoped the more mature age of the new members would have lessened the impact of their change in course. Most of the time Emma seemed okay—only rarely acting left out when Brennan wasn't around.

And Brennan, Brennan seemed to thrive on the familial feel of the team, falling easily into the banter, bonding closely with Shalimar, competing with Jesse, showing natural leadership skills and protective instincts toward his cohorts. But much of the time he still acted as though he were being tested at every turn, as though Adam was going to suddenly say, "Sorry, you failed that one. You should have said this instead of that or gone right instead of left."

Naive wasn't a word Adam liked to use when describing himself. Consequently, he vowed to pay more attention—to Brennan and Emma both. They weren't children. He knew that. But despite all the research he'd done, despite all the things he knew about their pasts that they didn't even know… There were still things he didn't know about them. Things he couldn't know about them until they let him.

Something else was bothering Adam about the Brennan situation—something he couldn't identify. He was worried for him and not just because of the headache, or the fact that he might be getting sick. The foreboding sensation Adam had felt settle upon him when Brennan left that morning hadn't gone away when they'd found him. Adam just didn't know why.

He sighed, punching in a code on the wall panel to his right that would allow him access to the hard-files of the project he and Stanton had been working on. A titanium drawer rolled open and he set what he needed out on the table in front of him.

There was something else bothering Adam about the Brennan situation—something he couldn't yet identify. He was worried for him and not just because of the headache or the fact that he might be getting sick. He was overtly conscious of the foreboding sensation acquired at Brennan's departure that morning and could no longer deny that it hadn't gone away when they'd found him that evening.

Coming to a decision, Adam punched the communication screen in front of him to life, forgoing voice control for the moment. He felt the odd need to do something with his hands.

* * *

"Jesse, I'd still like to scan you tonight," Adam said when Jesse walked by the lab with Emma after fetching Brennan's car—a disappointingly uneventful trip that frustrated Jesse for no reason he could name.

"Tomorrow?" he suggested quickly, and tried not to worry too much when Emma threw him a look. "It's been a long day."

"Tomorrow then," conceded Adam. He looked tired—drained. Despite the desire to avoid the lab until he had this figured out, Jesse paused, lingering in the doorway with his teammate. "You two should turn in," Adam ordered. "It's been a long day for all of us."

"Probably a good idea," said Emma.

"Yeah," Jesse nodded, agreeing quickly because Emma was still looking at him. "Goodnight," he said and turned around, slipping away and wondering what visions of him he'd left her with.

Pushing his door securely shut, he walked to the long mirror hanging on his closet. Lifting his shirt, he turned, craning his neck to see behind him.

He closed his mouth and swallowed.

The mark on his lower back had grown. No longer a distinct point of unnatural looking blue and black, it now had—spread out around it—tight whirls of darkening green. He'd seen people with marks like this, normal marks like this, but he was pretty sure this one wasn't normal.

He reached gingerly around to touch it, and though the angle was awkward he managed to brush his fingers lightly over the colored surface. "_Ow_!" he cried, dropping to his knees from the sudden throb that thrummed through him. Twisting back to the mirror, he met his own wild-eyed reflection.

He was more confused now than ever. He hadn't had it long, but the mark had never done _that_ before.

* * *

tbc


	7. Part 7

Yes, it's been a while. I'm trying to (slowly) round up and finish the wips I have here, but it may take just a little time.

* * *

**Silent Barriers: Part 7**

By Aja

* * *

"Adam," said Jeff in his soft accent, face alighting on the screen. "How are you? Did everything turn out with your young recruit?"

"He's fine." Adam smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Just a misunderstanding it seems."

Stanton's eyes seemed to soften. "Good," he said, with a nod that set his whispy white hair floating. All he needed was a mustache, Adam used to tell him, and he'd look like Einstein.

"I'm sorry for my abruptness earlier," Adam continued. "I was worried, and naturally…"

"No need to explain, Adam. I understand. We live in an ever changing world and these are times…" Stanton paused, looking down, a hand flitting briefly to his head. He cleared his throat. "These are times for caution," he finished.

"Jeff?" said Adam. "Are you all right?"

"Just a slight headache," came the answer, joined by a hand waving in dismissal. "I'm afraid your earlier worry got to me. I feared the project had been compromised, and stress is not good for an old man."

"Again, I apologize. As you say, these are times for caution. I overreacted. But just the same, perhaps we should wait before we make the next exchange."

"I'm not certain we can stall this," said Stanton. "We are close to completion."

"I know." Adam templed his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm just feeling uneasy, I suppose."

"Adam," said Stanton, eyes lifted up to the screen. "Do you remember what we used to say to each other in the early days of Genomex, when we were certain the Russians were sending all sorts of spies to try to get our research?"

Adam smiled. "Of course," he laughed. "Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you," he quoted.

Stanton put his hand to his head again. His eyes were intense. "It's funny," he said, "…how old sayings build truth with time."

Adam tipped his chin slightly to the side. "Yes," he returned hesitantly. "Yes, it certainly seems that way." Stanton got this way sometimes. Nostalgic. But… "Jeff. Is everything alright?"

Stanton nodded, doubling forward slightly. "I'm afraid this headache is getting worse," he answered. "I'll talk to you later, Adam. We'll arrange the next drop."

"Jeff…"

"Later, Adam. It's been a long day."

"Of course."

"Be well, my friend." The screen went dark.

Adam stared at it, feeling odd. Feeling… paranoid.

He just didn't have a solid reason why.

* * *

Sanctuary was loud in its silence. Brennan had never noticed that before. The silence, compared to his past history of constant city noise, had always felt calming before. Peaceful. It reinforced the feeling of safety he felt within its walls.

Now, the silence screamed at him. It beat against his skull and wouldn't let him sleep.

_Betrayer_, it whispered.

He stared at his ceiling with wide-awake eyes, listening to the silence and thinking.

The ring finger on his right hand felt too light, like it was about to detach and float away from his body. He wished he hadn't given Adam his ring again. It felt wrong not to have it, but he would have to get used to its absence.

He kept flexing his hands into fists, crushing his own fingertips against the abrasions on his palms.

The pain felt good.

Tomorrow, Brennan knew, life at Sanctuary would carry on. They'd investigate New Mutant sightings. Adam would work on his project and arrange another drop. And in the background, Trey Steger would be waiting, stalking like a lion and counting on his cooperation.

Maybe Brennan would have his com-ring back by then, maybe he wouldn't. Either way, he wouldn't be saying much to his teammates. Communicating with them was a thing of the past. He'd watch and wait and scream as silently as sanctuary.

* * *

Jesse sat forward in his desk chair, refusing to recline. The mark on his back didn't hurt anymore but he was wary of aggravating it.

He should tell Adam, of course. Now, more than ever. He wasn't entirely sure why he wasn't. The benefits of telling had to outweigh the risks at this point. Didn't they? He wasn't prone to secret keeping, but he felt confused, like he was missing a piece of a puzzle. A piece he needed before he went spilling his guts to people. Operating in the dark made him feel out of control. He just needed more information.

And Brennan…

Flexing his fingers, Jesse cleared the search on his computer screen and typed in another phrase. His eyes were turning gritty and dry from all the staring, and it wasn't getting him anywhere. The databases on the subject were all academic.

Light-based tattoos, like the one on his back, were temporary, harmless unless you were allergic to the ink, and meant to fade from both cloth and skin within a week. They were a continued phenomenon at clubs, and had been for the last ten years. Slap one on a shirt and it faded through to the skin and left a pattern that glowed in the dark, changing color with different strobes.

But this one was different. And if what that guy at Arecas had said was true, then…

Jesse shook his head. He just needed to think.

* * *

Emma folded her legs underneath her, tucking her toes into the space beneath her knees, and tried to clear her mind. She closed her eyes and started taking deep breaths.

The gentle feeling of spring settled into her head. Clear skies. Warm grass. Trees with new growth.

She held the image for a full minute before the scream crashed into it. Her eyes flew open as she sucked in air, staring around self-consciously.

It was the same scream that kept disrupting her sleep. And maybe she shouldn't have called it a scream, because it wasn't verbal. It was visual. A bolt of white followed by a flood of gray, both invading sharply, flashing over her world and then receding. It felt like a scream, but came with no other image to help her identify the source.

She wished sometimes that she were just a telepath. Telepaths, she thought, had it easy. Straightforward thoughts and phrases instead of assaulting images and emotions. There was a line between thoughts and emotions, natural shields between the two, and everyone's mind processed them together just a little differently. Emma picked up emotions in the way each individual experienced them, with their own interpretive pictures projected into her brain, which meant pictures she saw weren't always intuitive to her. They were someone else's manifestations. And she couldn't always tell what started with her and what started from someone else. But this soundless scream. It was dominating. It frightened her.

Usually, the closest emotions around her were the strongest.

As she reached out she could sense the edges of her teammates' emotions.

Adam was focused.

Shalimar was restless.

Jesse was… confused, or worried… maybe just anxious.

And Brennan was… muted. Distant. Pulling himself back? She shook her head. She wasn't sure and it was frustrating her.

She couldn't tell which one the scream came from, if any of them, but she was pretty sure she wasn't going to get a lot of sleep. She could disconnect, sometimes, if it was one or the other of her teammates having a bad night, but when it was all of them at once. Forget it.

She thought about going to Adam about it. But everyone was here, safe. What was she supposed to say?

* * *

Brennan eased out of his room early the next morning. With his back to his door, he stood motionless, listening to the silence of sanctuary. He loved sanctuary, but not a lot about it was designed for privacy. Hearing nothing, he moved, rubber soled shoes light and careful on the floor.

The lab was empty. He sent a look of gratitude toward the ceiling and stepped gingerly toward the equipment shelf, slowly squeaking a drawer open to retrieve the regenerator stick.

He held his breath as he turned on the diagnostics screen, wincing as the small beep shoved out into the hollow room. Brennan waited for a moment, looking over his shoulder, then took the end off the regenerator stick and plugged it into the system.

That was the easy part. Calibrating it to his DNA would be harder.

He tugged tentatively on his shirt, wincing and breathing fast as he got it over his head, closing it in his fist as he eased back in the center chair, trying to hold still.

When the scan was complete he replaced his shirt as quickly as possible, pulled the calibrated stick from the rest of the equipment and erased the results on the mainframe. Lifting the hem of his t-shirt, he aimed the stick and tried to get the right angle against his ribs. They were killing him.

"Hey, Bren, whatcha doing?"

Brennan dropped the shirt hem and jerked his head up, flicking his gaze over his shoulder. Shalimar stood with her shoulder locked casually against the doorframe. There was a smile on her face, but a concerned frown in her eyes. Cat-like and stealthy. He wished she'd make some noise when she moved.

Closing his eyes a second, he switched gears, pulling on the persona he'd need for the exchange. When he faced her, his face was all sheepishness. "Hey, Shal," he said. "What are you doing up?"

She stepped forward, rocking her head casually to the side. "I asked you first."

He pulled his lips together and said nothing.

Shalimar stopped. "Brennan?" she asked, voice more concerned.

"I, uh," he grimaced and held his hands out with an embarrassed expression. "When I was looking for my ring last night, this guy bumped into me on the sidewalk. I was so focused on the street that I tripped." He showed her the scrapes on his palms, then waved the little regenerator stick in the air. "It's not that bad but, I'm a wimp. I keep brushing my hands against stuff accidentally. I wanted to get a jump on the healing."

Shalimar clutched his fingers and pulled them forward, staring. She didn't look as amused about his story as he'd wanted her to.

"I cleaned them out already," he said, filling the silence. He pulled one hand back and held up the regenerator stick again. "Just need to…"

Shalimar took it from his hands. "Why don't you let me do that—you'll never get the right angle on your own."

He nodded, wiggling the fingers on the hand she still held. She gripped it a little tighter before letting go and angling the regenerator. "You really scared everyone yesterday, you know?"

"Yeah," he answered, dismissively, feeling the ease-up of the bruising under the pads of his hands as she worked. The bite of the abused ribs under his shirt growled at him, but he'd have to wait and take care of them later.

* * *

Adam trotted up the stairs with a print-out in his hand. Brennan was sitting on the top-step, back to the system wall, book in hand, focused expression on his face. Adam stopped just below him. "Headache gone?" he asked.

Brennan looked up. "Adam," he said, drawing his legs back for Adam to pass.

Adam waited.

Brennan looked up again, then rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said tiredly. "The headache is gone."

"Hm," said Adam. There was a tenseness to Brennan's movements, caution lined in his face, but he didn't push. "Well, if you're up to giving some input, I've got things I'd like to go over."

"I'm up to it." Brennan set the book aside and eased his feet down to the step Adam was on, and stood. He followed Adam around the corner, over to the table where the girls were sitting silently, eating something Brennan didn't recognize, and looking droopy.

Brennan leaned against the wall behind the table, propping an elbow on the ridge.

"Hey, wake up," Adam said to the group. "What happened? I thought you all went to bed early last night?"

"Shalimar just needs a cat nap," jibbed Brennan.

"Says the man with the rings under his eyes," pointed out Shalimar.

Adam shook his head with a sigh, but smiled. The teasing was normal and familiar. If it weren't for the weariness on their faces, Adam could almost forget the malaise from the day before had ever been felt.

* * *

Emma brushed her hair back and stood, trying to wake up more as Brennan turned back to Adam. "So, what's up," he asked. "Need me to make another delivery?"

"Not just yet." Adam shook his head. "We have new-mutant activity."

Brennan looked at the floor, rubbing a finger across his eyebrow.

Emma reached over for Adam's print-out then leaned against the wall on Brennan's left.

"The report came from a downtown pay phone near the Angeles de Amor Homeless Shelter," explained Adam.

"They've been known to take in new mutants in the past," said Shalimar. "This isn't the first time we've taken someone into the underground from that area."

"That's right," said Adam. "And the GSA knows it. They've been patrolling the area the last several months and I highly suspect they have agents watching the center 24/7."

"What are we supposed to do?" asked Emma. "With GSA agents everywhere, how are we supposed to check this out?"

"I have a better question," said Shalimar. "Where is Jesse? Why isn't he here?"

Adam frowned. "He told me he left a book at the club the other night and wanted to go see if it was there."

"A book?" Brennan and Shalimar said together. "At a club?"

"What," said Emma, bumping her hip into Brennan's side and getting a grunt in response. "Are you the only one who can do that?"

Shalimar laughed. "If Jesse picks up any more of your bad habits we may just have to find another elemental for the team. He's already started dodging scans."

The light smile disappeared from Brennan's face.

Emma straightened, palms suddenly dry. She looked at Brennan, then Shalimar, and finally at Adam. Adam gave her a small nod, letting her know he'd noticed the change.

"Brennan," said Shalimar. "I was just kidding."

A smile and light huff came to Brennan's lips. "Of course," he said. "I'll work at not corrupting Jesse any more." It was supposed to be a joke but it fell flat.

"Brennan," said Emma.

"So," he deflected. "Adam? How are we playing this?"

"Very cautiously," Adam answered, watching him. "Brennan, maybe you should stay here until I have your ring fixed. I'm afraid I started but didn't finish."

Brennan straightened, dropping his elbow off the wall. "I can do my job."

"I'm not doubting that. I just think it would be safer if…" Adam trailed off. "Fine. Stay with another member of the team," he finally ordered. "Don't split up."

"Yes sir," Brennan saluted jauntily, but it was forced, and everyone could tell.

"Emma," said Adam as they began to exit down the stairs. "Can I have a word?"

Brennan lingered, looking back over his shoulder. Shalimar tapped him on the arm. "Come on. Let's go warm up the Helix."

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

tbc


End file.
